


A Fight Between Two Men

by reginar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M, banquet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginar/pseuds/reginar
Summary: Yuuri knew that form - hunched shoulders, bowed head, all the while hovering over the champagne table. And he could sympathize, honestly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to fellow trash, Michelle.

The atmosphere in the banquet was different from what Yuuri remembered. Granted, he didn’t remember much of it, but he could attest it was less friendly back then, at least during the period that he had been sober. Now, however, strangers approached him left and right. It was overwhelming, but thankfully, his coach, standing beside him, took his hand and squeezed it with reassurance. Victor then maneuvered the conversation from Yuuri to himself, charming the potential sponsors expertly. Yuuri’s eyes wandered around the room. He guessed he and Victor arrived early, since the skaters he knew were not here yet. A group of junior skaters were ogling at him. He gave them a shy wave until he noticed a familiar figure.

 

Yuuri knew that form - hunched shoulders, bowed head, all the while hovering over the champagne table. And he could sympathize, honestly. Phichit came in sixth. And while he assured Yuuri that was fine by him, tonight, he didn’t look fine at all. Last year, Phichit figuratively held Yuuri’s hand through texts as much as he could. This year, Yuuri would try to do the same to his friend.

 

Muttering a quick “Be right back” to Victor, Yuuri made a beeline for Phichit. He stopped at a distance, suddenly all too aware that he didn’t know the first thing about comforting people, which was proven just the other night when he was too fascinated by Victor’s tears to apologize. (In his defense, it was a residual thought from his fanboy days that _the_ Victor Nikiforov was incapable of crying.)

 

Before he could gather his thoughts, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. He didn’t need to look to see who it was, as the person spoke: “Well, well,” said Christophe, tone seemingly smug.

 

Phichit spun around, the scowl on his face (directed at Christophe?) immediately replaced by surprise upon seeing Yuuri. He stammered a greeting and avoided eye contact. His usual cheeriness was nowhere to be found.

 

“Phichit,” said Yuuri, stepping forward. Christophe followed. “Are you all right?”

 

Christophe chuckled and waved a hand. “I see you’re nursing your loss with champagne. But a dance-off won’t change anything. Unless you can poledance. I can have that arranged.”

 

Yuuri stared at the man beside him. Sure, Christophe was odd in some ways, but he was not usually mean-spirited. A few days ago, the two were getting along so well, bonded, even, by looking at videos and photos from last year’s banquet, much to Yuuri’s chagrin. What happened now? There was no need to rub salt to the wound. Yuuri had known first hand just how placing last hurt.

 

Yuuri pushed Christophe’s arm off. He wasn’t sure how this would end - would he tell the man off? Would he yell? He felt offended for his friend and himself. “Placing last does not make him a loser.”

 

“Of course not. That still meant he’s in the top six best skaters this year.”

 

Yuuri blinked. “Oh, that’s settled, then?” He was confused now.

 

Christophe smirked. “But it does make him _not_ the best man.”

 

“What?” Yuuri looked back at Phichit, who looked like he was close to tears. Were they having some sort of manly fight? “Phichit?”

 

“Listen - ” Phichit pointed with his champagne flute. His face was contorted into some weird expression and his cheeks were colored.  “ - listen, I may not be _the_ best man, but if I were, I’m sure I’d give the best goddamn best man speech. I’d tell the whole room how Yuuri wrote a goddamn story about himself and - ”

 

A hand flew to Phichit’s mouth; Yuuri’s hand moved on its own accord. “Phichit, what the hell? That was a secret! You promised!”

 

“Oho!” Christophe’s eyes were shining with curiosity now, in ways Yuuri did not like. “I’m tempted to relinquish my win now. Tell me more.”

 

“Stop! Stop, you guys. What the hell is happening?”

 

Phichit gently removed the hand from his mouth. “Christophe and I had a wager…”

 

“And?” said Yuuri slowly, crossing his arms.

 

Christophe grinned. “Whoever places higher will be the best man on your wedding! Guess who’s the best man now?”

 

Mouth open, Yuuri stared at Christophe and then at Phichit. He blinked once. He blinked again. “I can’t believe you two!” He smacked his palm to his forehead. “I was so worried, Phichit, I thought it was about placing last and - ”

 

“Oh! I’m not upset about that, I told you already last night. Being here and skating my program, that’s a dream come true. But not being the best man...” Phichit looked down dramatically, pouting for an added effect. “It breaks my heart, Yuuri.”

 

“Hey, hey, no cheating with emotional appeal,” said Christophe, frowning.

 

“Look, I’ve been friends with Yuuri for five years - ”

 

“And I to Victor for ten.”

 

Before Phichit could respond, Yuuri held up a hand in between them. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, gold ring glinting just before he closed his eyes in frustration. It was ridiculous. They were both ridiculous.

 

“Guys. You guys do realize that, one, we won’t get married until - until who knows when - ” Yuuri felt his cheeks warm up. “ - and two, we’re both allowed a best man each. Stop this. _Please_.”

 

“Oh,” they both replied.

 

From across the room, Victor found his fiance getting smothered by two skaters and almost skipped as he cut through the crowd to join in.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://rayjinar.tumblr.com).


End file.
